ITVCFITB CHAPTER 61

 Chapter 61 — Infertility

Keen-eyed as ever, Luo Shuyu had been watching the Prefect’s wife all morning. Her face was a mask of frost—no warmth for anyone—and she didn’t even seem to pity the girl she’d brought. Otherwise, why shove the girl toward the inner courtyard?

Qingwang set a cup of tea by Luo Shuyu’s hand. Luo Shuyu lifted the lid, letting steam kiss his fingers, and looked to Chen Rong. “Mister Chen, what exactly happened?”

Chen Rong answered, “Your Highness Consort, Lin Doctor and I had just returned to my room for acupuncture when we found this young woman sprawled on my bed with her clothes in disarray. I’ve no idea when she slipped into my courtyard. Had Doctor Lin not been with me, she’d have ruined me with a false charge today.”

The girl knelt on the floor, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Luo Shuyu tipped his head at the matrons; they understood at once and silenced her.

Standing beside Luo Shuyu, Qingwang murmured, “Master, shall we invite the Prefect’s lady here for questioning?”

Luo Shuyu nodded. “Please do.” He turned to Chen Rong. “Mister Chen, you and Doctor Lin should go rest. I’ll handle the rest.”

They withdrew, what came next was hardly suitable for men to witness. It had been only a short while since the banquet began; before that, the girl had been seated beside the Prefect’s wife. She must have slipped away right after the opening courtesies and then headed to the rear. But why choose Chen Rong’s quarters of all places?

This new residence wasn’t as grand as their capital estate, but the courtyards were laid out clearly. If she’d wanted to make trouble for the prince’s household, there were far more obvious places to go. Choosing a remote side yard to stage a scandal… it didn’t add up.

The more Luo Shuyu considered it, the stranger it felt.

In short order, the Prefect’s wife arrived. When her eyes fell on the kneeling girl, not a ripple crossed her calm face. That alone made Luo Shuyu doubt the relationship between them.

The whole Zhu household was… odd. What did they have to hide?

From what Luo Shuyu had gathered, the Wei clan and the Zhu clan were at cross-purposes. So why would the Prefect’s wife parade this girl so brazenly today? What was she trying to signal?

He gestured politely. “Madam Prefect, please sit.”

“Thank you, Your Highness Consort.” She sat without the slightest hesitation. Qingwang nearly sputtered, who had the gall to plant a girl in the prince’s back courtyard and then sit down as if she owned the place?

Luo Shuyu went straight to the point. “Madam, to what end is this?”

The Prefect’s wife suddenly stood and kicked the girl hard in the shoulder. The girl toppled, clutching herself, and shot a venomous glare upward.

Expressionless, the Prefect’s wife faced Luo Shuyu again. “This commoner’s wife failed in instruction. I beg Your Highness Consort’s leniency.”

Luo Shuyu didn’t answer her. He beckoned Qingwang close, whispered a few words, then nodded to the matrons. They hauled the girl to the next room. Qingwang returned to stand at his side.

The Prefect’s wife twisted her handkerchief tight. “My daughter erred first. Whatever punishment Your Highness Consort deems fit, we will bear.”

“You sound almost… pleased. Not worried at all,” Luo Shuyu said mildly. “Madam, that girl doesn’t seem to be your daughter.”

“I simply have a stiff face,” she replied coolly. “It’s not that I don’t care for my child.”

“That kick just now argues otherwise,” Luo Shuyu said.

Silence.

He continued in a conversational tone, “I’m told you’re the former Censor Xiao’s daughter. Eighteen years ago you married Prefect Zhu. The two of you were very much in love. Ten years back, you followed him north to this post and, since then, have not returned to your maiden home. Before his appointment, you bore a son and a daughter. After coming to Gu City, there were no more children and your loving husband took two concubines, one after another. Am I wrong? By the dates, your eldest is a son, and your daughter should be twelve or thirteen at most. The young woman just now is clearly older, so she cannot be your own child.”

The Prefect’s wife’s fist tightened on her handkerchief. “…I don’t know what Your Highness Consort means. How could Xiaoyan not be my daughter?”

“Which proper mistress,” Luo Shuyu asked softly, “would send her own daughter to trawl through another man’s household, tainting her name? You, of all people, the Censor’s daughter, know what reputation means. Idle talk kills without a blade. What your ‘daughter’ did today could cost heads and sink your husband’s career along with it. None of that troubles you?”

The woman’s lips pressed together at last.

“Shall I guess why?” Luo Shuyu’s voice stayed light. “Is it that you don’t care… or that you can’t stop it?”

“Your Highness Consort, I—”

Before she could fabricate an answer, the matrons returned with the girl.

“Report, Master,” the head matron said evenly. “The young lady is not intact—but there are no signs of intimacy today.”

The girl’s hair was a tangle; she had clearly resisted during the inspection. A moment ago, she’d glowered at the Prefect’s wife; now she trembled, cowed.

“I don’t care whether she’s been unfaithful in her own home,” Luo Shuyu said. “But walking into my back courtyard like this is, at best, wanton. At worst, a deliberate frame-up.”

The Prefect’s wife dropped to her knees. “This commoner’s wife failed in instruction. Please punish us, Your Highness Consort!”

“How would you like me to punish you?” Luo Shuyu asked, almost amused. A Prefect’s wife abasing herself, curious.

“We will remove this presumptuous daughter at once,” she said crisply. “We must not sully Your Highness and His Highness’s good name.”

“Very well,” Luo Shuyu said. “No need for flogging; this is, after all, your family’s mess. You did, however, disturb my guests.”

“I will compensate Your Highness’s honored guests,” she said at once.

“I don’t care to hear pretty promises,” Luo Shuyu replied. “Just be sure this ‘daughter’ never appears before me again.”

The girl thought she’d escaped and even dared a flicker of smugness while mouthing apologies. Luo Shuyu ignored her, rose, and left. As he passed the Prefect’s wife, she lifted her eyes to study him once, then lowered them and hurried out, dragging the girl along.

Back in the corridor, Qingwang murmured, “Master, why let them go so easily? If this spreads, won’t it harm us?”

“It won’t,” Luo Shuyu said with a little smile. “Think about who our guests are and how they treated Madam Prefect today. Watching her stumble is a pastime they won’t forgo. No one here is a fool.”

“You mean… they already know about that ‘daughter’?” Qingwang frowned. “The Zhu household is too brazen.”

“Imagine someone parading a ‘daughter’ into your home, day after day, flirting with your husband, your sons, your guests. How would you feel?”

“Utter disgust,” Qingwang said bluntly. “But if so, why does Madam Prefect keep bringing her out in public? Isn’t she ruining the Zhu family name?”

“On the contrary,” Luo Shuyu said softly, “she may be delighted. The worse the Zhu household looks, the better for her.”

Qingwang was lost again. Weren’t husband and wife one body? Why would the Prefect’s lady act like this?

“One more thing,” Luo Shuyu added. “Our scouts all saw the girl taken next door for inspection?”

“They did,” Qingwang said, still puzzled. “But shouldn’t we keep such things quiet? Too many tongues, what if trouble spreads?”

“Let it spread,” Luo Shuyu said. “Judging by the ladies’ attitude, they’ve known for a while. And word will reach the Prefect soon enough.” His only relief was that Li Mingjin hadn’t been in the residence today; no mud to fling at him.

As for Chen Rong and Lin Yuan? One was a chronically ill scholar; the other, a physician. If gossip turned ugly, the prince’s household could sever ties in a breath. Hardly worth an enemy’s effort.

Letting them go was also, in its way, a favor to the Prefect’s wife. What mother tolerates a “daughter” constantly thrown at men? Only one who’s not the true mother. And on closer look, that girl was older than she pretended, at least around twenty, and no maiden.

Who was she? Whom did she serve? Why did Madam Prefect wear that mask of indifference? Did Prefect Zhu know?

One more knot in a growing tangle. Luo Shuyu’s second chance at life had handed him a basket of riddles. What was one more?

The Prefect’s wife fled with the girl; she had no face to linger.

Luo Shuyu returned to the banquet as if nothing had happened: chatting, laughing, seeing the ladies off with gifts. As Lady Wei took her leave, she leaned close and whispered, “Forgive my boldness, Consort. Please be careful with Madam Prefect. There’s something… not right there.”

Luo Shuyu smiled and saw her out.

That evening, Li Mingjin came home with the warmth of wine on his breath, pleased with the day and a little indulgent. Luo Shuyu had him drink a bowl of hangover soup. Later, tucked under the quilt, Li Mingjin recounted the day’s drills and the men he’d marked as promising. In turn, Luo Shuyu told him about the Prefect’s “daughter” and voiced a bold suspicion.

“I think Prefect Zhu may not be the real Prefect Zhu,” Luo Shuyu said. “But Madam Prefect is genuine.”

Li Mingjin caught on immediately. Her deliberate coldness with the other ladies, the indifference to scandal, it wasn’t apathy. It was resistance, broadcast as openly as she dared to whoever was watching her. If the Prefect was an impostor, then what leverage kept her obedient? Family.

“If the current ‘Prefect Zhu’ is false,” Li Mingjin said, “the true one is likely dead. To control Madam Prefect, only the children would suffice.”

“Then why leave her and the children alive?” Luo Shuyu asked.

“Because she holds something or because her father does,” Li Mingjin mused. “Censor Xiao is retired but alive, and he dotes on his daughter. He regularly sends people north with supplies. If she vanished, suspicion would fall on the ‘Prefect’ at once. So she must live.”

“Which means,” Luo Shuyu said quietly, “the secret is either in her hands… or in Censor Xiao’s.”

“A proper drama,” Li Mingjin chuckled. “Twists stacked on twists. Every day we spar in the dark.”

“With Heaven, with people, the struggle is the spice,” Luo Shuyu teased. “We can’t change the game, so let’s enjoy it.”

“Then let’s start enjoying right now,” Li Mingjin said, hauling him close and catching his lips between his teeth.

“…That’s not what I meant,” Luo Shuyu muttered, breathless.

---

In the days that followed, the courtyard tourney in the barracks and Luo Shuyu’s ladies’ banquet gave Gu City plenty to talk about. The pair knew how to seed a story: done right, rumor was half truth, half smoke, and all useful.

Storytellers in tea houses painted the tournament vividly: brave challenges, near falls, stunning reversals. And then came the twist, those who didn’t make the top six still received consolation rewards. Pride soothed, spirits lifted, the men went back to training hungry to try again next year.

“Generous, that Third Prince,” people said.

As for the consort, gossip about the Prefect’s “daughter” burned through back courtyards like dry pine. Ladies whispered it to sisters and cousins; kitchens clucked; even servants traded tidbits.

The next day, Prefect Zhu himself arrived with carts piled high with gifts. Li Mingjin accepted them all with a bland smile.

“Rich household,” Luo Shuyu murmured, scanning the list. None of it surprised him.

What mattered more was Li Mingjin’s health.

Lin Yuan had been moving between his clinic and the prince’s residence regularly. Li Mingjin’s private inquiries into the physician were nearly complete, and Chen Rong vouched for him. It was time.

They declined every visiting card that morning. The two of them went to Chen Rong’s side courtyard, where Lin Yuan “arrived to treat his junior” as usual.

No one knew that today’s patient would be the Third Prince.

They had turned a study into a small consulting room. Li Mingjin sat at one end of the table; Lin Yuan took the other. Mingjin set his wrist upon the pillow.

He didn’t volunteer symptoms, just offered his pulse and silence. If Lin Yuan truly was “the Hundred-Antidote,” he would see.

Even Chen Rong didn’t know. He couldn’t prepare Lin Yuan; this had to be clean.

The physician took the pulse three times, then checked lip color, tongue, sclera. He asked the prince to lie flat and palpated, methodical from head to foot. The longer he worked, the more complex his expression became. Watching him, Luo Shuyu’s face grew tenser still.

Could Lin Yuan tell? Could he see the poison that had once torn Li Mingjin’s mind apart?

Lin Yuan set down the pulse pillow and opened his case, lifting out a small packet of needles. He explained that they’d been sterilized. To reassure them, he ran each one through a flame again.

“Your Highness,” he said, “allow me to place two needles to confirm my suspicion.”

“Go ahead,” Li Mingjin said.

They had seen Chen Rong bristling with needles before; two in the hand was nothing. Lin Yuan’s technique was deft. He placed them in the three-yin points.

After a moment he asked, “Any sensation of heat?”

Li Mingjin pointed to his lower back. “Here. Warm. Feels… good.”

Lin Yuan noted it down. An hour later, he wrote the diagnosis and passed the sheet across.

Li Mingjin’s face shifted; he moved to tear the paper, but Luo Shuyu snatched it first and read every stroke.

There it was, neatly laid out: the types of toxins he’d been exposed to; the residues lodged in the body; the organs affected; the long, slow plan to clear them. And one line, standing out like ink on snow:

For now, the condition impairs fertility.

Luo Shuyu blinked. …What?

Li Mingjin’s poisoning… could make him infertile?

---

Author’s Note
Third Prince: “Wife, before my ‘little problem’ is cured, hurry and enjoy this pure, unencumbered version of me!”
Luo Shuyu: “…”

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